


Washed Out in the Rain (don't let go)

by goldkirk



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Chronic Illness, Gen, I can't wait for him to get to live without a ticking timer around his neck anymore god bless, Shiro's death is mentioned but only for a hot second, Spoilers for season 6, a quick study of terminally ill shiro from garrison to space to voltron, he comes back obviously, man that boy is determined as hell, terminal illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 03:48:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15501663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldkirk/pseuds/goldkirk
Summary: Twenty-one, and he slips down the flight ladder. Twenty-one, and he drops the weight on his foot and fractures a bone. Twenty-one, and they stop writing off the accidents as clumsiness, because Shiro, you never were uncoordinated before. Twenty-one and back at the hospital, twenty one and a biopsy, twenty one and--Twenty-one, and he’s dying.





	Washed Out in the Rain (don't let go)

He was nineteen, and it started with a dropped wrench.

 

He was giving his bike a tune up, that was all. He did it regularly, checking it over and giving her a little extra loving with oiling and polishing and tightening of nuts here and there. He reached out to where he’d laid out his wrench set on a tray next to him and picked up the size he needed, then went to settle the end around a nut. Something he’d done a thousand times. 

 

And then the wrench just...slipped out of his hand. He stared down in surprise as the ringing sound it had made against the garage floor faded out. That was odd.

 

Shiro flexed his fingers, staring at his hand with a slight frown. It was probably nothing. A momentary cramp or fatigue from the workout he’d done earlier. When he picked up the wrench again, he held it firm, and it didn’t slip again while he finished up his work. Shiro ended up brushing off the incident as a normal fluke that tended to happen in human bodies sometimes. No reason to be bothered.

 

* * *

 

Nineteen, and staring in shock as his arm froze up in the flight sim. Nineteen, and trying to explain to concerned instructors that he didn’t know why, maybe just a cramp. Nineteen one week later, and his leg giving out in the hallway as his digital pad goes flying. 

 

Nineteen in a doctor’s office. Nineteen at the hospital. 

 

Nineteen and no answers. 

 

* * *

 

He’s twenty and he’s got it. His body is under his control, and he’s more in shape than ever before, and he can bench press Keith and Matt both, no sweat. 

 

He’s twenty and he hasn’t had a cramp or issue in months. 

 

He’s twenty and his fingers drop the fork on his plate. He shakes it off.

 

Twenty, and when his ankle gives out during a run he figures he just tripped.

 

* * *

 

Twenty-one, and he slips down the flight ladder. Twenty-one, and he drops the weight on his foot and fractures a bone. Twenty-one, and they stop writing off the accidents as clumsiness, because Shiro, you never were uncoordinated before. Twenty-one and back at the hospital, twenty one and a biopsy, twenty one and--

Twenty-one, and he’s dying. 

 

Not fast, but fast enough. Twenty one, and he’s now officially on a countdown timer, and his body that he’s so proud of is going to fail him.

 

Twenty-one and he writes a will. Just to be prepared.

 

Twenty-one and he’s going to be as strong as he can in defiance of it all, and damn anyone who tries to get him to slow down. He’ll have plenty of time for that later.

 

* * *

 

Twenty-two, and damn you, Sir, he’ll be in this uniform until he can’t get out of bed. He’ll fly and he’ll train and he’ll teach and no one can stop him.

 

* * *

 

Twenty-three and he’ll sleep when he’s dead, this is the opportunity of a lifetime and even if the whole world is stacked against him, he won’t give up on his dream. 

 

Twenty-three and a dreamer. Twenty-three and determined. Twenty-three and electrical stimulation keeps him going on bad days, and his drive carries him through all the rest. Twenty-three and the rain hurts where it hits his skin.

 

Twenty-three and he’s still breaking records. Twenty-three and he’s not giving up.

 

* * *

 

Twenty-four and he’s made it. Twenty-four, and they’re making history with every second. Twenty-four and his muscles are weaker, but he’s touched the stars.

 

Twenty-four, and it all goes to hell. 

 

Twenty-four, and he fights until he can’t move, and then fights some more, because his life is already forfeit and he’d rather die sooner than not at least try to spare the weaker ones from having to fight.

 

Twenty-four and losing time, losing memory, losing a normal pain scale, losing a limb. Twenty-four, and he doesn’t even know what they’ve done to him anymore. Twenty-four and broken but--

 

Twenty-four and out of there. Twenty-four, and still alive, and headed home, and then living out a story straight out of his grandma's bedtime tales. Twenty-four and responsible, and learning to live again, and somehow, some way, still alive.

 

Twenty-four, and in a split second, lost beyond sight. Twenty-four, and finally out of time. Twenty-four, dead, and still not giving up. Twenty-four, and a living light in the darkness. 

 

* * *

 

Twenty-five, and finally, finally alive. Twenty-five and no arm, still, and exhausted, and tired as hell with even more trauma to add to the pile, but twenty-five and no traces of disease.

 

Twenty-five. He made it to twenty-five. Twenty-five and a clock is reset. 

 

Twenty-five, and he’s got all the time in the world to live again, no sword of Damocles. Twenty-five, and he’s crying with his family on a godforsaken planet, and impossible odds don’t mean anything anymore. 

 

Twenty-five, and he’s finally got time. 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Backwards from 27](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16983939) by [DarkPilot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkPilot/pseuds/DarkPilot)




End file.
